little sister
by frdss-gstnn
Summary: She's broken, probably even worse than he is. Continuing from 'happy' and 'fireworks'. one-shot.


**disclaimer: i own nothing. excepts idea**.  
_continue from_ '**happy**' _and_ '**fireworks**'. _this time, from Spencer's point of view_.

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**little sister**  
_by BigBenMitchell_

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Spencer is not an idiot. He may have drown himself in millions of liquor and have been hallucinating zebras wearing bras lately, but he is _not_ stupid. Sure, a foolish guy with the outrageous amount of randomness act, but he was (and still _is_) not stupid. He's not stupid to know that he's screwed up, to know that he's utterly broken inside and possibly nothing could mends his heart, so he tried stoning it, trying to achieve the goal of making his heart, _his whole body_ numb by drinking bottles after bottles of alcohol. It usually does, but not entirely. He still feels it, the pain, it stings here and there and it makes him wince sometimes. Sometimes he looks over his whole body, to check for any wounds to explain why exactly is he feeling these... hurt. Feeling like he's crushed, being stomped over and over again and his chest tightens, making him hard to breathe until the only thing his brain could chant is _alcohol, alcohol, alcohol_...

He cries sometimes, a lot of times actually. He hates crying, always does. But sometimes when he sees the image of his mother come flashing in his mind, he couldn't help but to shut his eyes completely. Then he remembers his mother laughing, and the hurt would begin. After that he would recall the memory of his father wrapped his arms around her mother's small frame and Spencer Shay's body begins to shake, trembles quite harshly. He screams and kicks to find something so that he could get out of this nightmare, but it wouldn't work because it's not a dream. It's reality and it sickens him. It's even more sickening when he sees the face of his little sister. Oh, his sister ... that poor, _poor_ girl.

He's not stupid. His whole life, he raises that little kid. From a middle-school young girl until she's in high-school. He knew her, ever since she's in diapers. The moment she opens her eyes to the world when she was a young infant until the moment she hugs him so that she can enter her college, being all grown up and whatnot. He knows every little scar that must have on her body since she was a three years old, the moment she falls down and there's a small scar on the top of her head that got covered by her raven hair as she grows up. The moment she falls from her bicycle at age seven years old and scrapped her left knees, there's still a scar there. It's almost goes unnoticeable, but it's there. The scar that runs along her wrist when she accidentally hit with something sharp after screaming when she wakes up from a nightmare of their mother, she was nine then, the year when their mother died. It was tragic, and every little scar Carly has, he somehow makes a mental note of it back in his mind. He doesn't know why really, he just does.

But he could never counts the scars deep in Carly's heart. It breaks his heart, even then, when he sees her face now and knew that she's not secure... she's not being taken care of. He still remembers it, after mom died, she kept having these nightmares where she would wake up during the nights and screamed and cried and kicked and push her body to the wall, beat herself up. She was so small for someone to be so broken then, even now. He still saw the image of her nine-years-old face, all swollen and emotionless. It goes on for months. She kept screaming through the nights and he still remembers the footsteps of their father bursting out into her room to calm her down while he's in his bedroom, clutching his ears to block out any sound until he cried himself to sleep. It scares him, the fact that Carly is scared but then, there's always somebody who can take care of her. Like their dad. But he's gone now, and he knew, just by looking at her face every time she walks into his apartment, that there's nobody who would come and rescue her during the nights.

He could, but at the same time he couldn't. He's too chunked up with his liquor he couldn't even see anything as perfect as he used to see them. He's too weak now. He couldn't be Carly's knight in shining armour like he wish he would. His strength, it's no longer there. He's just nothing but a single soul that is trying so hard to just feel something. She comes to his apartment, sometimes the other member of iCarly gang comes. Even Socko comes to visit him. They come, they clean the place a little bit if possible, they make sure he eats, they make sure he doesn't kill himself somehow, they chat with him, updates him in whatever that's happening now and then, they'd walk out. Carly never talks though. And she always comes alone. She comes in, she bring foods, she lets him eat while she cleans the apartment a little, she waits until he's finished with his food and then she walks out. He wants to say his sorry, but he couldn't. So he just looks at her, and he knows she sees it. She nods at him and maybe mutters a goodnight or a good day before closing the door shuts.

You could hear it in her voice, how dry they are, how hoarse it really is. That proves that she screams during the nights. You could see the dark circles under her eyes, how tired she is when she looks at you. That proves she spends her nights awake and swollen up by her nightmares. You could see how swollen her face is, how puffy and red it is. This proves her crying. She cries every night, _oh_ she does. Sometimes it is silence, sometimes she would cry aloud, but she still does either way because even though he isn't there when it happened, he used to witness it all. She's broken, probably even worse than he is.

Sometimes Freddie comes to visit him and he couldn't help but think that this boy- no, this _man_ now could easily take care of his little sister. Freddie has grown up so well. From that small little boy that he used to call his neighbour, to a man that walks so tall and steady with both his hands stuffed in his pocket and his hair combed to the right side neatly. Freddie has grown boarder, taller and much more mature than he is a decade ago. Spencer can see it- how Freddie would make sure that Carly sleeps well during the nights, how he would hold her when she screams from her nightmares, how he would whispers to her ears that she's okay, that she's not going to lose herself in her dark lonely world because he's there, besides her all along. Carly needs that. Carly needs _him_.

Maybe because there's no one else, or that maybe Spencer could also see the way Carly's eyes are silently longing for Freddie, he doesn't know but he thinks that Freddie is the only one that could mend whatever left of his sister. The kid would be good to his sister, make sure that his sister won't do anything dangerous, won't make sure that his sister aren't going to go insane slowly and painfully. He knows how that feels like; in fact he is doing exactly that now. But that's okay with him because he's stronger somehow; well at least stronger than his little sister and he was the one who chooses to be in this path, in this drunken smelly path all by himself, but Carly- she doesn't ask for any of that. The nightmares, the haunting voices, the endless terrifying nights she has to endure, she does not willingly put herself to that situation. She can't help it. Somehow the demons know she's fragile and they're out there to crush the living spirit out of her.

They're doing that, and she has no power to stand up and fight them. That's why she needs Freddie to stay besides her and help her, _guide her_ to block them out. She needs that. She needs to feel Freddie's strong hands gripping on her wrist as she screams for the haunting voices to go away and his words of _it's_ _not real, it's not going to get you_ reaches her ears to calm her down. She needs to finally open her eyes to see that the demons aren't getting to her and she needs to fall into Freddie's chest as he secure his arms around her. She needs his small smile when she looks up at him and just knows that it's okay. _She's_ okay. She needs to wake up every day and see Freddie in her kitchen, cooking pancakes and asking her about the weather because he could give her new hopes. Just like how their dad did when he was alive. He stayed with her during the nights and gave her new hopes during the days and slowly, she patches up and she's bubbly Carly again, the little sister he always knew she was.

But right now, she isn't.

And Freddie's not going to be with her. Not when he's with Sam. Yes, Spencer loves the idea of Sam and Freddie together. They're good together, somehow. Sam's happy and Freddie's happy and that should made Spencer's happy too except for the fact that something inside of him keep telling him to tell the boy that his little sister is in love with him. And it's not just that, sometimes he wants him to know that Carly is _hurting_ and what the hell are they doing here? Aren't they supposed to be a team? Why can't they notice somebody in their group is slowly missing away from them? Maybe they had, they just don't bother to do anything about it. Maybe that's that. Maybe he _is_ going to watch as his sister falls into the demons' wrath after all. Maybe he _is_ going to lose another member of his family, the only member left that is, to everything he fears of. And sometimes when Freddie comes, he would stare at that kid's face; his mind is arguing whether or not to tell him of Carly but nothing ever comes out from his mouth.

This is sad.

This is downright _pathetic_.

But Spencer caves in because there's nothing he could do now. He's going to watch Freddie and Sam share a happy life together, he's going to hear more about Gibby's life with his wife, Cassandra and their chubby little daughter together as they grow up, and he's probably going to hear more of Socko's little dog and his new taco business and he's going to lose his one and only sister because he's too afraid to face life and decides to let himself buzz out in his millions of drinks. And he sleeps with tears in his eyes as he remembers Carly at age of four years old, holding his hand while she's on their father's lap with their mother by his side. They were so happy then, back when fate hasn't decided to change their life drastically. And Spencer sleeps to the song his sister had hummed the other night and for the first time he realized it has been so long since he hears she sings. And it's painfully beautiful.

_When I look into your eyes,  
it's like watching the night sky,  
or a beautiful sunrise,  
there's so much they hold_.

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It's horrible. Probably the last one. Thinking of doing from Sam's POV but... _eh_. This is continuing from _happy _and _fireworks_. But it's not really necessary to read the previous two.:) Hope you have a nice read, and don't forget to leave reviews, kay? I know, I know. It sucks. The song; I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz. The same song from 'happy' and 'fireworks'. I do not own a single thing- maybe just ideas.


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